


In Darkness, Unbroken

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Turned Into Vampire, Evanuris, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Old Gods (Dragon Age), Post-Canon, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 20:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Herald of Andraste and the Great Inquisitor was tragically found dead in the arms of her former lover, who sought to destroy this world for another. They say her death was his fault. This story starts one year after when her grave is disturbed and she wakes anew, alive yet thirst for blood.This is an alternate universe, of Post-Inquisition.





	In Darkness, Unbroken

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She gasped aloud, taken in a breath of life, but the air was quickly gone. She started to choke when she realized she was inside a coffin. What place could be this enclosed and claustrophobic? She pounded on the casket and she tried to push. Desperate now she pushed harder and the stone lid came right off. Air eased in immediately and she breathe easily as she hurried out of the marble stone coffin.

“Maker!”

“U-Undead!”

“S-she’s alive—Oh Maker, she came back to life!”

Men shouted and she raised her head, taking a look of her surroundings before her. There were at least seven of them, and they looked like the common bandits that she had fought in all that travelling back in her Inquisition days. At first, she didn’t know that she was dead, instead she thought that _they_ put her in the coffin. However, before she could demand answers, her throat burned as if a burning rod was shoved down her throat.

“Her eyes…! Her eyes are red!”

An animalistic hiss escaped her lips as rage took over her. She leaped, almost flying at one of the bandits and tackled him to the ground. Without a moment’s hesitation, she leaned in and passed the dirty, sweaty man that he smelled of, she could smell blood. She could hear the beating of his erratic heart as he trembled in fear. She wasted no moment as she went right in and bit down on his neck, successfully tearing his flesh to get to the fastest supply of blood.

And she drank, and oh did it soothe her throat—her undying thirst.

Screams came about as they watched in horror of their companion, bitten.

One of them came right up behind Shiloh, an axe drawn, and he tried to slay her there and chop her head off.

Somehow, Shiloh knew he was coming and before the ae could hit her, she turned and held her hand out. Her hand easily caught the blade of the axe—her skin impenetrable. Then easily as if squeezing clay, the axe metal broke into pieces.

The attacker stumbled back in shock at such unfathomable strength.

Then she leaped at him like a lioness on a hunt and she bit down hard on his throat with enough pressure that broke his neck, instantly killing him.

Now they were all trying to kill her, and Shiloh find her body moving by itself. Perhaps the years of fighting that had polished her, but this was different… better… like she was fluid in the air, and she saw everything moving slowly. She was stronger, faster, and she never felt so alive until tonight happened.

She was alive.

Rain started pouring down, washing away the blood that spilled.

Among the pitter patter noise of the droplets of rain, she could still hear one heart beating softly somewhere in this dark elven ruin. She followed the sound, and coming around the corner, she found a bleeding elf.

His heart picked up the pace when he realized he had been found, and there, he was going to be killed just like the rest. However, Shiloh was more curious why the elf was injured. City elf, she thought as there were no Dalish tattoos on his face. He had an olive skin with dark hair but bright green eyes. He looked fairly young, and if he was in her clan, he would be going through his commencement coming of age by hunting his first elk by himself.

It stunned her a bit of how much fear there was in his eyes, just seeing her.

“Why are you afraid?” She asked him, and she was a little taken back by her own voice. It sounded so smooth and sweetly luscious.

For a moment, he wasn’t afraid now and she could hear his heart calming down as he hesitantly replied, “You… you’re alive… and you killed those…graverobbers.”

His words confused her. Alive…?

Then harsh memories flashed before her as she remembered what had happened to her. A menacing laughter echoed loudly in her mind as she staggered away, gripping her head. Pain. Pain everywhere and his words of humiliation tore her to shreds just as his vile claws did to her body. ‘ _I wonder if the dread wolf like left overs.’_ She trembled all over, holding herself as she had recalled her death… what that _bastard_ did to her… was this _his_ doing?

‘ _He’s coming for you…and all he’ll get is your cold corpse. It’s been fun, rabbit._ ’

She wretched and emptied out all the contents from her stomach, and though it was empty, she heaved anyway, spitting out bile. Her body was now recalling how that monster violated her…

“…I died…” she whispered out, realizing.

She saw a puddle nearby and she moved closer to it. Even though the puddle was disrupted by the raindrops, she could see her reflection, and the one trait that took her by surprise were the red eyes.

What did that monster do to her?

The sound of coughing got her attention back as she returned to the elf that was on the verge of dying.

“They attacked you…” She noted as she knelt down beside him, reaching out to touch his wound.

He nodded then he lowered his head. “Maker, this must be my judgment—cough… I led them here… they paid me coin to find your grave, and… I didn’t know… I didn’t know they were going to take you out and bring you to the Tevinter. I told them they can’t, but—”

“Shhh…” She shushed him, placing a finger on his lips then her hand moved down to touch his wound. She attempted to heal him. She tried to renew the blood in his veins and close the wound for good, making sure skin tissue would heal well.

She didn’t expect it to work so easily in just seconds. Healing a wound like this was so…trivial.

He breathed easy now, surprised and in awe as he stared at her in disbelief, and somehow, she could read the thoughts in his eyes. Why did she help him? Is this a trick? Why did she help a useless and worthless elf like himself?

“You’re neither useless or worthless…Fenlen.”

His eyes widened. “…Maker, it’s true…” He gasped. “…You were sent by Andraste… you have rose from the dead and—”

“There are no such things as Gods, Fenlen,” She interrupted with the solemn truth. “I’ve learned that the hard way… Fenlen, I need you… to tell me everything… I understand you might not really know much, but I’m not even sure where I am or what year it is.”

He answered still in an awe-like expression, “We’re… We’re in the _Planasene forest_ , not too far from Kirkwall, Your Worship… Dragon Age 9:45, All Souls’ Day…”

Ironic that she once again rises from the ashes on a particular day that celebrates the dead.

Shiloh stood up now and looking far form a distance. Somehow, through the thick branches of the forest, she could see a big forth not too far up on a cliffside with the view of an ocean. She reached down, grabbing Fenlen’s arm and easily lifted him to his feed as if he weighed nothing. He too was surprised, but she let him go, not wanting to hurt him, though still holding him, making sure he was steady enough to stand on his own.

“Come with me… there is shelter not too far. You must tell me everything…everything that has happened since my death.”

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Dragon Age 9:46, 3rd day of Solace

 

“Your Grace, Your Eminence,” Fenlen greeted after he rushed from the great doors before getting on his knees, bowing towards the great highness on her throne. “Forgive me for my rude entrance, but the armies from Cumberland, Tantervale, and Starkhaven are here, just a mile away…They mean to storm this place in the morning.”

Shiloh set her win down, lazily looking up at the young elf, who has become her right-arm man. Her advisor to her left side hissed, irritated. “Have they not given up? They were wasting away their lives.”

“Well, you know how humans can get, _Decimus_.”

“Just as stubborn as elves, then?”

“Why do you two keep insisting in this human and elf racist crap?” A dwarven woman interrupted them as she was there at a table, drinking a mug of ale. “We all know you’re neither of those things now.”

“Hey, Miri, as long as I have these ears, I’m still an elf.” Fen said, grabbing the pointy tips of his ears and extending them out, to show long they were.

“Yes, if only your brain was as _sharp_ as your ears.”

The red-eyed elf—no longer were his eyes green—furrowed at him with confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“Haha… exactly my point.”

“Haha! You said _point_!”

Shiloh loved their banter. It reminded her of her old friends in the Inquisition. How their banter was just mocking each other most of the time, and making jokes. It was nostalgic. Still, they have a problem on their hands. While she let them continue arguing, she had left her throne and had walked over to the nearby balcony, looking out at the Waking Sea before her…

Not too far away, the light of dawn was approaching.

Let’s change that, shall we…?

She looked up at the sky, her red eyes glowing brightly and slowly she closed them, feeling the air around her.

Soon, the light of dawn was being covered by thick dark clouds.

The banter had ceased and she turned to see her dear companions, staring at her and waiting for her orders. Their eyes glowing slightly red, knowing they were going to have a feast. There were ten more of them that had arrived, standing with anticipation. This was her clan—her coven.

“…Make sure they don’t get passed my _fence_.”

“Yes, Your Worship.” All thirteen of them answered in unison before they disappeared. Perhaps in the human eye, it looked like they were gone in a blink of an eye, but Shiloh saw them running out down the hall with unreal speed.

She turned back, looking to her left and in the far distance, she could see the torches of the army.

She used to be known as the Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor Lavellan—her titles rang all throughout Thedas. Today, the world still believed her dead, and her new title and name struck fear in the hearts of many across the land.

_Akasha_.

It was the name of a succubus from an old dalish tale who sucked blood of any male that fell prey to her beauty. Other than that, they were also called bloodsuckers and leeches—the term coined by a travelling Tevinter merchant: _vampires_.

Despite having everything again like a throne, some close friends, and many people admiring her both in fear and awe, there was always something missing.

“Solas… How are you doing, I wonder…”

Maybe she should go find him rather than wait for him here.

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End file.
